


The Adventure Of The English Charter

by Cerdic519



Series: Further Adventures Of Mr. Sherlock Holmes [69]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Cambridge, F/M, Forgery, Historical, M/M, Slow Burn, Theft, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 07:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15601770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: Whilst doing some minor investigative work into his hobby of early English charters Holmes is summonsed to where one particularly important charter has been stolen – or has it?





	The Adventure Of The English Charter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wiccanfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiccanfangirl/gifts).



_Introduction by Sir Sherrinford Holmes, Baronet_

This, arguably one of the least known of my brother Sherlock's unwritten cases, merited only a passing reference from his friend Watson. After the tragi-comic case of Cardinal Tosca, Sherlock solved the case later referred to as _Wisteria Lodge_ , and in his next case _The Three Students_ Watson mentioned that they were in a certain university town and that Sherlock was investigating early English charters. In fact my brother had stumbled across one of the most famous documents in this Nation's long and proud history, and events surrounding that document occupied him immediately after the resolution of the parallel case. The document in question remained in the family until recently, but along with its being bequeathed to the nation its last owner asked that I publish this tale, which I am glad to do.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

_Narration by Doctor John Hamish Watson, M.D._

One of the many good things about this, my second time with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, was that his occasional drug-taking had completely ceased. I knew not the reason why – his workload seemed much as it had been before the dreadful events at Reichenbach – but he seemed calmer now, although he still became irritable if he did not have a challenging case to hand. In this instance he had two; the one I was able to document ( _The Three Students_ ) and a most curious matter that ran parallel to it and arose out of a hobby of his.

Some of my readers do sometimes criticize me for not revealing every single fact in a case, and because the nobleman in this matter wished to remain anonymous, I declined to name the town near his home even in the published case. As is my practice however I am writing it up, in the presumption that circumstances may change and this curious little matter may be published. I can reveal that the town in both cases was in fact Cambridge, and that the nobleman was Mr. William de Grey better known as the Duke of Tyneham, whose family seat Cottenham Hall lay a few miles to the north just across the border into the Isle of Ely.

Researching into old charters was one of Holmes' more unusual hobbies, and I felt (although I did not say) that in this instance his involvement was rather a case of 'after the Lord Mayor's Show', to coin a phrase. The documents in question were the bulk of an inheritance that the duke had received from an unmarried uncle who had died recently, and at first little had been thought of them – until amongst the papers had been found one that ranked amongst the most important in English history. It was the one labelled (arguably incorrectly) by the popular press as 'the Parva Carta'.

Although I myself did not have any great interest in history, the ancient royal forests were one of the few areas that had appealed to me, especially because so few people understood them. 'Forest’ in the Middle Ages was defined differently to today's meaning, then describing a protected wild area comprising different habitats that included trees but was mostly open ground. From that dark year of 1066 onwards, the rights of free men to access these areas for fuel and for the grazing of their animals had been curtailed by the Norman and Plantaganet kings, and brutal punishments had been imposed for any who were caught breaking the harsh new laws. Worse, the definition of just what was a royal forest had been greatly extended, a process known as afforestation. 

Every schoolboy knows the famous story about how King John was forced to affix his seal (not 'sign', as he was illiterate) that most famous scroll in English history, the Magna Carta. Almost inevitably given that monarch's abysmal track record he tried to go back on his word, resulting in the First Barons' War in which leading English barons invited his nephew Louis (later King Louis VIII of France) over to 'reason with him', and to perhaps remember to bring an army with him. John then went and died (one of the few things that he got right in his miserable existence), Louis was eventually defeated by the great William Marshall, and the list of promises was reissued with some extra clauses to clamp down on royal forest laws. It was only from this time on that the original document was referred to as Magna Carta (the Great Charter) and the addition as the Little Charter or the Charter of the Forest. Both were reissued several times that century, and it was a 1224 copy of the smaller charter that had somehow turned up in a Hertfordshire attic.

Holmes had asked and been granted permission to examine the rest of the inheritance although I was sure that there could not be a second lucky find to match the first, and had also been invited by the duke to visit him at Cottenham Hall to see the great document itself. Holmes had planned to visit once his examination of the charters was complete but, the very day after the dramatic events outlined in _The Three Students_ , we received an urgent request from the duke to come immediately. Fortunately the Hall had its own private halt on the railway north out of Cambridge, so it was a quick journey. 

The duke himself welcomed us and I noted at once that he was clearly worried about something. He was a fine old gentleman of about sixty years of age, clearly not in the best of health as he greeted us from a bath-chair, wrapped heavily in blankets. His attendant nurse gave us a mighty scowl when he dismissed her before talking to us, and I wondered if she might stoop to listening in at the door. She looked the sort.  
   
“Thank you for coming to my house, gentleman”, he said.  
   
“You sounded quite concerned in your telegram, sir”, Holmes said. “Was there a reason for that?”  
   
“Indeed there was”, the duke said heavily. “I have lost the Parva Carta, and am threatened with social and possibly even financial ruin unless I can find it again.”  
 

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

   
“As you may have read in the newspapers”, the duke said, “I am currently engaged in establishing the Tyneham Museum in London. I had acquired a number of historical artefacts, none of any major importance but all of at least some interest. I had thought to have a quiet opening ceremony – I do not like such events myself – but as you can appreciate the discovery of the charter changed all that. In a moment that I may soon come to regret, I agreed that the Princess of Wales herself would open the museum.”

“The charter would of course be a great draw”, Holmes mused. “Although I am sure you must have had more than one offer to purchase it.”

“My sons are divided on that, amongst other things”, the duke sighed. “Ælfric is all for housing it in the library as what he termed 'a crowd-puller', whereas Edgar wants to sell it and use the money to pay for a complete refurbishment of the Hall. Like most so-called 'great landowners' I have mostly moved out of land as it is currently a poor investment. The house does need work, but nothing that I cannot fund through my current income sources. And I really wish for as many people to see the charter as possible, rather than for it to be locked away in y gallery just gathering dust.”

“And now it had disappeared?” Holmes asked. The duke groaned.

“The museum opens in two weeks' time”, he said. “The press will have a field-day when they discover that the prize exhibit is an empty glass case!”

“When did the charter vanish?” Holmes asked.

“Last night sometime”, the duke said. “The last time that I definitely had it was just before dinner at seven o'clock; I had been examining it when the gong sounded. After dinner we adjourned for coffee, and at just before nine I went for one final look. The case was empty.”

Holmes pressed his long fingers together. 

“Who was in the house at the time?” he asked.

“Myself, my two sons, my daughter Edwina and her fiancé, Mr. Callow”, the duke said. “I have to say that I do not really approve of their relationship especially as he is some nine years her senior, but I suppose that that is the way of the world nowadays, and they have been together for some time. The staff were all down in the kitchens, except the maids who brought up the food.”

“That fact may be important”, Holmes said. “Please tell me more about Miss de Grey and Mr. Callow.”

“I married late in life”, the duke said, “and was fortunate enough to be blessed with three children before, sadly, my wife died trying to provide me with a fourth child. I was left to raise my three children on my own, although I was fortunate to have my mother's help.”

I thought of the dowager Duchess Deirdre, a most formidable woman well into her eighties yet still very active on the social scene whenever the duke came to London. I had met her the one time, and had had the distinct feeling that she might, just might tend to be a strict surrogate parent. As in the ocean might, just might tend to be wet!

“Edwina is nineteen, and quite determined when it comes to getting her own way”, the duke continued. “She is not scholastically minded, and has showed absolutely no interest in the charter whatsoever. Her fiancé however has a keen interest in history. He is originally from Norway and came to the area when the charter was found, wishing to see it. It may be the Viking in him that makes me not quite trust the fellow; although he was able to authenticate the charter for me I took the precaution of obtaining a second opinion from an expert in Cambridge.”

“And then we have your two sons”, Holmes said. “Tell me a little about them, if you please.”

“Edgar is twenty-two and, sorry though I am to say it, something of a rake”, the duke said with a sigh. “Rather too many of the young generation seem to think that the world owes them a living these days, and the idea of them actually working for an honest crust is to them an alien concept. He was most unhappy when, last year, I insisted that he spend six months working on the estate, including doing farm labour.”

“Insisted?” I asked. The duke nodded.

“He is rather inclined to laziness”, he said. “I am of course obliged to leave my title to him, but my private wealth could easily be passed to one of my other children.”

I thought to myself that his offspring would privately hate him having that hold over them all, but said nothing.

“Ælfric is a year younger than his brother”, the duke went on. “Physically he is very different; Edgar is short and rather unfit, whilst his brother is very athletic and, perhaps, a little too proud of his own appearance. But then we all have our weaknesses.”

“You say that you spent time before dinner looking at the charter”, Holmes said. “Does that not run the risk of damaging it?”

“I was unclear over that”, the duke admitted. “I have had the thing transcribed into Modern English, and it was the copy that I was examining over in the adjoining case.”

“I must ask you a somewhat personal question now”, Holmes said. “You mentioned Mr. Callow, whom your daughter is seeing. Are either of your sons currently seeing anyone?”

The duke looked surprised at the question but answered readily enough.

“It may be cruel to say it, but I rather think that my eldest son is waiting for me to quit this earthly realm so he can have the estate to counter his innate lack of personal appeal”, he said bluntly. “Ælfric is currently dating Lord Winchcombe's youngest, a girl named Brilliana of all things! A good girl, despite that.”

Holmes nodded and thought for some little time.

“Was the charter insured?” he asked at last.

“That is another thing”, the duke sighed. “It is of course irreplaceable, but I did insure it with the March Insurance Company for ten thousand pounds. Naturally they will be far from happy when they receive the telegram I sent them this morning, informing them of its disappearance. Can you help me at all?”

“I am not sure”, Holmes said thoughtfully. “I am concerned that even as we speak, the charter may have already been damaged.”

“Damaged?” the duke asked, clearly shocked. “Why?”

“Not deliberately”, Holmes clarified. “But remember, we are dealing with a piece of parchment that is at least six and a half centuries old. It would not take well to being folded even once in its now fragile state, which one presumes would have had to occur before it could be removed undetected from the house.”

“But do you know who has it?” the duke asked.

“Oh yes.”

We both stared at him in surprise.

“That part is fairly obvious”, Holmes said calmly. “However, retrieving the document – that will be a little harder.”

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

Holmes wanted to take a look at the glass case that had housed the charter, so we went off to the study. The case had a lock on it, but unfortunately the duke had not used that as the house had been locked up at the time and he had thought it safe. I could see the insurance company rubbing their hands at that and using it as an excuse not to pay out – if anyone told them about it, of course.

My friend examined the empty case in silence, though I caught a very slight twitch of the lips which told me had either seen or deduced something. What that was he did not tell me. He did however ask for a footman to take a telegram that he wanted sent to Miss Richards in London.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

The next day passed uneventfully enough. A telegram came for Holmes mid-morning and he seemed pleased enough with the contents, though he did not share them with me. Mr. Callow left for London after lunch and Edgar de Grey took him to the station before himself travelling on to Cambridge for the afternoon. I was a little uneasy about them both leaving the house but Holmes seemed unworried, so I supposed that it was all right. 

It was about an hour after the two men had driven off that we had a visitor. It was a local police constable, depressingly young (they all were nowadays) and with ginger hair. When he came into the main room where we were both sat, he surprised me by greeting Holmes.

“Constable Berkeley”, Holmes smiled. “Welcome. Did you get it?”

“Yes, sir”, the constable smiled. “Had to wait a bit at the station for them to box it up for me, though. It looked like rain and I didn't want to risk it getting wet.”

“Risk what getting wet?” I asked, confused. Duke William, his daughter and his youngest son had joined us and they all looked equally nonplussed, which made me feel a little better.

“The box that is currently being brought into the Abbey contains a most precious certain medieval charter”, Holmes said. “Your suspicions were quite correct, Your Grace. Mr. Callow had decided to relieve you of your historical artefact, sell it, and make a new life for himself abroad. I am sorry to say, Miss de Grey, the fact that he only started paying court to you just days after the charter came into your father's possession was _not_ a coincidence.”

Miss de Grey bit back a sob and her brother moved swiftly to comfort her.

“Well!” the duke said heavily. “The rat!”

“Indeed”, Holmes said. “Doubtless he will soon have plenty of time in a prison cell to consider the foolishness of his actions. The doctor and I must, regretfully, leave for Cambridge and resume our work there, but I would be grateful if, your men having safely unpacked the charter, we could both see the original document that has caused all this commotion?”

“Of course”, the duke said. “Ælfric, take Edwina to her room please.”

The younger de Grey led his sister away, pausing only to look curiously back at Holmes. I wondered why.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

Fortunately we had at least an hour to examine the charter before we had to leave to make the last train back to Cambridge. It was virtually incomprehensible I thought, not helped by the fact that in those far-off days they had for some reason written legal matters in short form. Holmes of course could read it without even looking at the modern translation. Show-off!

We had been there some little time when the door opened and Ælfric de Grey entered.

“I thought that I had better come”, he said, looking somewhat shame-faced for some reason.

“It is well that you did”, Holmes said, quite sharply I thought. “Your behaviour has been shameful, sir.”

“But necessary”, the young man insisted.

“What is going on?” I asked, puzzled. Holmes turned to me.

“There was rather more to Mr. Callow that met the eye”, he explained. “Mr. Ælfric suspected that his attentions towards his sister may have been opportune, given the coincidence of their starting around the time the charter was discovered. He then did some research and discovered that as well as Mr. Callow, there was also a Mrs. Callow.”

“What?” I exclaimed, turning to the young man. “Why did you not say?”

“Can you imagine my sister's embarrassment?” the young man muttered, flushing bright red. “To be wooed by a married man on such a pretence and then dumped? I only found out the other week which was when I worked out what his real game must be.”

“Since he could obviously not marry Miss Edwina legally, his target was more likely theft”, Holmes agreed. “Mr. Ælfric laid his plans. He had an almost perfect copy of the charter made, and found an opportunity to effect a substitution. It was just days before he knew that his prey was paying a visit, and Mr Callow had no reason to check what he thought was the real charter when taking it.”

“Wait a minute”, I said, spotting something. “That means that the man has been falsely arrested!”

“True”, Holmes said, “but you are forgetting that any time he serves in jail will be more than deserved, bearing in mind his intentions and the foul way in which he used poor Miss Edwina de Grey.”

I could not but agree. 

“You said that the copy was _almost_ perfect”, Ælfric de Grey said. “What is wrong with it?”

“I happen to know the forger whom you used for the copy”, Holmes smiled. “He told me some of the secrets of his trade after I had helped save him from a matter that could have ended for him at the gallows, and again later in a family matter. When he gave you the copy he told you that he had placed a certain mark in a certain letter in the document which, whilst to the untrained eye might look like an ink-blot caused by a careless monk transcribing the original, shows itself under close examination to be something else. He always places those on any copy he does so that the owner, at least, can be assured as to which is which.”

Of course, I thought. Stamford the Farnham Forger, who Holmes had saved from his devious daughter.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

_Postscriptum: Mr. Callow served four years for a theft that he did not commit, and when finished had the belated good manners to remove himself from English soil. Ten years later and the year before war broke out Ælfric de Grey was badly injured in a road traffic accident that claimed the life of his father. His elder brother Edgar became the next duke but did not live long to enjoy his title, enlisting in that war and dying in the trenches before the year was out. Duke Ælfric duly inherited but he and his wife had no children, and when his title and estate passed to a cousin on his death in 1927, he bequeathed the charter to the Nation. His sister Edwina never married and still lives on the estate. The Dowager Duchess Deirdre passed shortly after her hundredth birthday so has probably finished setting Heaven to rights by now. If she is not actually running it!_

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩


End file.
